


Cocky

by jimmason



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Anal Fingering, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Dom/sub, F/M, Fishnets, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, Smut, Spit As Lube, Spit Kink, Sub!Michael Langdon, Submissive Male, dom reader, hawthorne michael, hawthorne michael langdon, sub!Michael, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28716438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jimmason/pseuds/jimmason
Summary: You visit a particularly subby Hawthorne Michael for the weekend.
Relationships: Michael Langdon & Reader, Michael Langdon & You, Michael Langdon/Reader, Michael Langdon/You
Kudos: 17





	Cocky

**Author's Note:**

> once again, from my tumblr!

The floor of his dorm room was cold, even being able to feel the icy ground through your pair of jeans. The chilliness emanating from the floor was being counteracted by the warmth radiating off of Hawthorne's own boy wonder straddling your hips, pretty much sitting in your lap at this point, like a feline begging for attention. The mandatory Hawthorne uniform that clothed Michael’s body was far from the pristine form it usually was; the blazer underneath you being used to soften the hardwood flooring, black sweater tossed behind his king-sized bed, the white shirt unbuttoned halfway to expose his sweat glistening chest and upper tummy, the black ribbon that was fashioned in a bow around his throat normally now lazily draped over one of his shoulders, and his black slacks being long gone, leaving him in box briefs of a charcoal grey shade that he was very obviously leaking through with pre-cum. You scrolled through your phone aimless while the opposite hand buried itself in his thick blonde waves, acting unamused as you let the famished boy’s hands and mouth wander and touch as he pleased. 

Ignoring Michael while he was deprived of you like this was always your favourite, it pushed him further into the submissive headspace that only you could bring him to. There was something so satisfying and made you giddy by having the most powerful warlock belittled to a teary-eyed, disheveled, horny puddle in your lap. Michael whimpered into your neck as more tears of need and frustration brimmed the waterline of his pretty grey eyes, feebly rubbing himself against your thigh. His flushed face buried in between the juncture underneath your chin and the front strip of your throat, his arms clasped behind your back and holding you close. Your eyes shifted from whatever dumb shit your friends were going off about in your group chat to your boyfriend, getting a little bit concerned about how much of a mess the boy looked in your lap, thinking maybe that this is the time you pushed him far too hard into his small headspace.

“Michael, honey, how about you take a second to regroup and undress, okay baby?” scrunching your hand in his hair, your fingertips rubbing comforting scratches to his scalp. Michael pulled his face away to look up at you, shakily nodding his head, being a little dizzy. He sat up fully on his knees and slipped the remaining few buttons on his shirt through the hole that held the top together, shrugging it off down to his forearms and tearing it away, then unsteadily coming to his feet to shed the remaining fabric that barely covered himself. You twisted yourself to the side to reach into your purse, fishing out the plastic covered surprise you had for your boy, handing it over to Michael and vibrating with giddiness to see his reaction to said surprise. Michael felt almost intoxicated from how desperate and groggy he was, curiously dipping his head to the side as he reread the package multiple times.

“Fishnets?” he eyed the diamond design threads, so simplistic but so erotic. Michael gazed down at you, his face tinged pink and his eyes looking wild. You nodded and raised a brow at him.

“Mhm, you know what I want you to do with them?” grinning at Michaels seemingly innocent oblivion, continuing before he would retaliate to your rhetorical question “I want you to strip off your underwear, get those fishnets on, and sit your sweet little ass back on my thigh and we’ll take it from there. How does that sound, baby boy?”

The blonde boy vigorously nodded his head at your statement. Stepping in front of the full-body mirror propped in the corner of his room, he speedily disrobed himself of his boxers and stretching the material over his smooth legs. As he dolled himself up for your satisfaction, you hopped back onto his bed and tried your best not to give him any wandering glances as he changed, just to keep from spoiling the surprise. Hearing the audible snap of the elastic waistband against his skin sent a warm and tingly feeling straight to your nether regions. He checked out his reflection, doing the full 360 to assure himself about how it looked from all angles. Michael fixed a few of the caught strands that formed the tiny diamond shapes on his legs, watching himself run his hands over his ass, thighs, and calves. You admired his eagerness to do anything that would please you, but mainly admiring the mental image of how mouthwatering you knew he looked as you kept yourself from taking a peek at your boyfriend. 

The mattress that was dressed in beautiful red smooth and cool satin with some added soft velvet sheets of the same red grew taut under you with the newfound weight accompanying you on the bed. Shoving your phone aside and rolling your head over to Michael, who was knelt beside you on his bruised knees. He had a hand balanced on each thigh, nervously plucking at the stretchy strings of the hosiery, somehow still appearing pure and angelic like in this debauched state. 

Without warning, you ran your hands up and down over the material that clung to his thighs, squeezing lightly at the outside portion of his meaty thighs. Michael whined at the physical attention he was receiving to one of his erogenous zones, spreading his folded knees like a begging bitch in heat.

“Such an obedient little one.” You mused at him, feeding off the submissiveness of the usually powerful being sat in front of you “Before I forget,” reaching beneath one of the flat laying pillows emerged a simple black leather collar with a silver metal o-ring dangling from it, simple snapping the back of the collar and securing the simplistic leather strip to his throat, gently tugging at the metal loop that sparkled in the low light of the room “So pretty, Mikey.” 

He keened at the degrading tug, his puppy dog eyes pleading for any shred of stimulation. His flushing pink cock was pressed upwards on his lower stomach, the tip smearing the salivating transparent liquid plastering the flesh. The tights provided just a caress of stimuli to the spot that was aching to release. 

“Aww, does my puppy want to play?” A snarl tumbling from your barely parted lips. Michael’s eyes were teary, you could hear the begging whimpers lodged in his throat. You had officially broken the cocky exterior of Hawthorne’s trophy boy, the cracked facade revealing what he really was; A desperate bottom willing to dish it out to whoever had a domineering touch. 

The pillow that you slipped the collar under sparked an idea into your brain, a degrading thought at that. You shoved the pillow at Michael’s knees, an evil smirk making him shiver at what your next order for him would be.

“I want to watch you fuck the pillow.” The simple demand made Michael’s lip form into a childish pout, never daring to disobey you though. He held the pillow between his thighs; folding it so he could achieve a sufficient amount of friction to his lower region. As Michael made himself comfortable, you’d hopped off the bed and retrieved the chair, sat at his desk, pulling it beside the bed in order to get the best viewing experience of the boy.

Michael’s hips stuttered, embarrassed as he had an audience watching him perform the humiliating act. The fishnet chafed at his sensitive cock, hissing at the burn but knowing him he was pleased with the discomfort. You felt like a cougar watching their prey, scanning over every little detail of the schoolboy as he reduced himself to nothing but a good boy who wanted to appease your commands. Your hungry eyes never lifted off of his ass though, the thick flesh wrapped in the tights looked like a delicacy and you wanted to devour every last bite of it.

A greedy hand palpated the skin, running a gutsy finger over the pretty pink hole as you pulled him apart. 

“I’m surprised you’re still so tight after all of the boys here practically running a train on you on a daily basis.” Your brutal jabs sent twitches down to his cock, his ass displaying itself better for you, “Hawthornes own little boy whore.”

Your mouth was salivating over the delicious scene in front of you, putting said saliva to work and letting out a mass of your warm fluid down Michael’s arched out behind, mewling as he felt your warm spit trail down his crack to his balls. Your two fingers collected some of the wetness and swirled it around your boytoys hole, slicking up the peachy pink skin and feeling bold enough to ease a finger in.

“Your little pussy is always so fucking good.” Your forefinger petting the insides of the boy without restraint, poking and prodding till he started to make those puppy-like sounds that you adored so much. Michael’s cock pulsated through the diamond knit material. Your devaluing remarks and fingers exploring him sent the strawberry blonde to a different dimension. The Hawthorne boys were good at fucking Michael silly, but there was something about you that made the experience otherworldly; Maybe it’s because you’re a woman and knew how to satisfy him, or maybe it’s because he knew you loved him outside of your dominate bedroom persona, unlike the other boys. 

The muscle constricted around your fingers, Michael kept his hips moving along the wedged pillow as he basically rode your fingers. A pointed dig upwards sent his hips into a moment of frenzy, pornographic high pitched yips and cries being shaken out of the boy. 

“Looks like I found someone’s g-spot.” The bitchy comments came cannonballing out of you this evening, it must’ve been something in the air, “Go on, stain the brand new fishnets, slut.” Persuading his climax further with more aggressive juts to his prostate. Michael was never one to want to disappoint. Almost cumming on command for you. His seed escaped through the thin strings and dribbled along the design of the tights. Your fingers departed him, sending a speedy smack to his ass to prompt the skin to jiggle within its confines. 

Your tongue traced up the pattern of the fishnets, cumulating all of his spent release in your cupped tongue. Michael jerked at the tip of your tongue, occasionally going off the trail of the tights and licking at his skin, still so sensitive from his edged out orgasm. Your hand mingled in his sparkling strawberry blonde curls, knotting it between your eager fingers to get a better grip on the silky strands. His pliant mouth hung up, knowing you well enough to understand what your next move would be.

The pool of cum sitting in your folded tongue was released as a spit into the passive boy who was still perceivably aroused by your roughness with him. The taste of himself on his own tongue made his eyes go every which direction, borderline looking like he was in need of an exorcism. 

“What do you say for your gratuitous reward, little one?”

With a gulp, his submissive eyes caught yours, “Thank you, mistress.”


End file.
